


It's All For You

by agentsandartefacts



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentsandartefacts/pseuds/agentsandartefacts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka is seriously ill, close to dying. It's up to Helena to take fate into her own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All For You

**Author's Note:**

> I'm basically an evil person, and had to follow up on a post on Tumblr made by phoenix-cry, because my heart was too black and I really need to write fluff.

i

‘You know I can’t let you do this,’ Mrs Fredric said.

Helena bit her lip and ran her hands through her hair. She stared at Mrs Fredric. ‘Myka is dying! There is no cure other than using an artefact. I have to do this, Mrs Fredric. I _have_ to.’

Mrs Fredric considered her, peered at the label on Mary Mallon's Butcher Knife, then sighed. She gazed up at Helena. ‘Are you sure you want to do this? You know you may never recover from it.’

‘I’m well aware of the risks,’ Helena countered. ‘I’ve apparently sacrificed my life once for Myka and the Warehouse. It seems I’ll do it again. Please Mrs Fredric. Don’t let Myka die, when I can do something.’

Mrs Fredric studied Helena for a short moment before snapping on some purple gloves and placing the knife inside a neutralising bag. She reluctantly handed the knife to Helena. ‘You know Myka would most certainly not condone your actions’

Helena slipped the knife inside her bag before looking up and smiling at Mrs Fredric ruefully. ‘At least she’ll be around to do it. I however...’ She paused for a moment, swallowing a lump that formed in her throat. ‘I’ll stash my bag underneath Myka’s bed, so I know the knife will be safe.’

Mrs Fredric nodded, struggling to keep her expression professional. ‘Thank you, Helena.’

Helena nodded, biting hard on her lip, her eyes beginning to water. She took a long glance at all the inventory on the shelves, her senses picking up the subtle notes of apples. She nodded to herself once more before looking at Mrs Fredric. ‘Thank you for allowing Warehouse 13 for being my home, however brief it was.’

‘We will find a cure...’ Mrs Fredric’s voice cracked as she looked at Helena.

Helena’s smile was small as she turned around and began to find her way back to the entrance of Warehouse 13, preparing herself. She had to save Myka. It was her main priority.

 

* * *

 

Warren offered Jeannie a comforting squeeze of the hand as he stared at Myka’s vitals. Nothing could shift the numbing dread in the pit of his stomach. Myka had been unconscious from the morphine now for longer than he would have liked. Seeing his daughter with tubes and pipes sprouting from her hands and face left a lump in his throat that was impossible to shift.

Jeannie squeezed Myka’s hand, careful not to disrupt the tubes keeping her alive. She looked at Warren and coughed quietly. ‘Do you think I should read to her again?’

Warren pulled himself away from staring at the monitors to look at Jeannie and nodded. ‘I don’t think it could do any harm.’

Jeannie nodded and reached into her bag, pulling out a worn copy of Shakespeare’s _Hamlet_. She opened it up and began reading, trying to settle the gnawing worry in her stomach.

Outside, Helena emerged, peering through the window before knocking.

Frowning, Warren stood up and walked over to the door, opening it.

‘Mr Bering, I presume?’ Helena asked, extending a hand. ‘I’m a friend of Myka’s. I was wondering if I could see her, please. If you don’t mind, of course?’

Warren shook Helena’s hand and nodded, beckoning for her to come in. ‘Sure...it’s been a day or two since she’s had visitors. Do you work with her?’

Helena felt her breath still in her throat as she glanced at Myka’s form, her stomach churning and her knees almost buckling. She regained herself and closed the door before turning to Warren. ‘We’ve worked together over the last couple of years, yes. One fairly recently, too.’

Jeannie looked up at Helena. ‘She just won’t get better. Her friends are trying everything to make her better...’ Tears began to run down Jeannie’s cheeks. ‘But nothing’s working.’

‘Her partner, Pete, is checking in with us every hour,’ Warren explained. He leaned in and whispered near Helena. ‘I fear this could be the end for our Myka...’

Helena felt a cold chill run up her spine. _Not if I can help it_ , she thought. She nodded Warren. ‘Righty-ho then...’ she murmured. She moved over to Myka and sat down beside her. She grasped onto Myka’s lifeless and cold hand, looked at her pale face. ‘Everything is going to be okay, Myka. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make it right.’

‘You can help our daughter?’ Jeannie asked; the hope in her voice made Helena flinch.

Helena peered at Jeannie, bit her lip. ‘Can I have a moment alone with Myka, please?’

‘Well...I...’ Jeannie spluttered.

Warren put an arm around Jeannie’s waist and nodded. ‘We’ll be outside. Come on, dear.’

Helena waited for the Berings to leave the room before she closed the blinds. She reached into her bag and took out the silver neutralising bag. With it, she took out a scented envelope and placed it on Myka’s bedside table.

‘I hope you can forgive me, Myka, for what I’m about to do,’ Helena whispered, planting a kiss on Myka’s hand.

She took out Mary Mallon's knife and placed it in Myka’s hand. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she enveloped her hand with Myka’s. The knife began to glow and she felt her arm grow warm as the knife transferred the illness. When the glowing stopped she wrapped the bag around the knife and slipped it back into her bag, kicking it underneath the bed.

Helena glanced at Myka’s vitals, and then Myka herself. Colour began to blossom in her cheeks, and she knew. She knew Myka would be okay, that she would live. It soothed something deep in her soul. She leaned forward and kissed Myka’s forehead. ‘I’m sorry darling, but it had to be done. I love you.’

She left the room without another word, nodding at the Berings as she passed them on their way coming back with coffee cups. As she walked down the hospital corridor, she could feel her legs collapsing beneath her, her head becoming light. She grabbed onto the wall for support, fumbling for the nearest door handle.

She stumbled into an empty hospital room, the door clicking shut behind her. She collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. The illness soon took over her body, pain attacking at every nerve. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to succumb to the illness with one image in mind. She knew Myka was alive, and she granted herself to think of Myka’s bright and hopeful smile before darkness took over her.

 

ii

Myka opened her eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the sudden light. She frowned as she saw Pete, Claudia, Steve and Artie standing there with relieved and happy expressions on their faces. As she went to rub her eyes, she noticed all of the tubes and pipes sprouting from her hand. She frowned, confused. ‘Guys, what’s happened?’

‘Wait, you don’t remember?’ Pete asked, tears welling up in his eyes. ‘Mykes, you were dying...’

‘But I feel fine...’ Myka replied, her eyes widening when Warren and Jeannie arrived in the doorway, both of them crying with tears of happiness.

‘Myka!’ Jeannie exclaimed, rushing forward to hug her. ‘You’re...you’re alive!’

‘Yeah...’ Myka drawled, still puzzled. ‘How long have I been here?’

‘You’ve been ill for months, Myka,’ Claudia answered, wiping the tears from her cheeks. ‘We seriously thought we were gonna lose you.’

‘A friend came to see you a little while ago,’ Warren added. ‘She didn’t tell us her name, but she was a very pleasant woman.’

‘She also had a British accent,’ Jeannie included, stroking Myka’s hand.

‘Oh my god...’ Myka whispered. ‘Helena...Helena was here?’

Pete shrugged. ‘We never saw her...’

Myka looked around her, noticed an envelope on her bedside. She tried to reach over and grab it but her wires were getting in the way. She pulled them out, then reached for the envelope. She opened it up and read the words, her stomach numbing the further she read on.

‘Mykes?’ Pete asked, tentatively. ‘Mykes what is it?’

Myka couldn’t respond as she finished the letter, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her heart heaved in her chest. She collapsed back against her bed rest, the letter falling out of her hand. She closed her eyes and breathed before whispering, ‘Look under the bed, Pete.’

Pete moved forward and crouched, looked under the bed. He pulled out the bag and frowned.

‘Put on the gloves, Pete.’ Myka’s voice was small, defeated.

Pete did as he was told and snapped on some purple gloves, pulling out Mary Mallon's knife.

Claudia gasped, her eyes wide.

‘Hey, isn’t that Mary Mallon's Butcher Knife we snagged two years ago?’ Steve asked.

‘Helena used it, didn’t she,’ Pete said, staring at Myka. ‘Mykes...I’m so sorry...’

‘I am too, Pete,’ Myka whispered as she picked up Helena’s note once more and read. ‘I am too.’

 

_Dear Myka,_

_I used Typhoid Mary’s knife. I had no other choice. There is no other cure and this is the right thing to do. I’ve had my time. You need to have yours. It’s been fun, darling, solving puzzles and saving the day. But the Warehouse needs you. It needs you more than it needs me._

_I love you Myka. Thank you for letting me have one last adventure._

_Be brave._

_Yours, Helena._


End file.
